


Breaking the Mold (Before it Even Sets)

by AndreaDTX



Series: Breaking Tradition [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Canon-adjacent, Coming of Age, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dominant Omega, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Knotting, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky Barnes, Oral Sex, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Scenting, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sub Steve Rogers, Submissive Alpha, Top Bucky Barnes, alpha in rut, omega in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDTX/pseuds/AndreaDTX
Summary: Steve and Bucky have a non-traditional ABO relationship and they love it. But it didn't start magically or out of the blue just because they're now in the 21st century where people don't judge them for being a dominant omega/ submissive alpha couple. Their kink fest started nearly a century ago when they defied culture norms and societal pressure, daring to love and fuck the way they wanted.





	Breaking the Mold (Before it Even Sets)

**Author's Note:**

> I got numerous requests asking for a story about Steve and Bucky's non-traditional ABO relationship pre-serum. I was a little nervous writing this because I've never written anything about their pre-war relationship (Recovery Bucky is my favorite Bucky). This was originally supposed to be pure smut, but then all this plot snuck in... 
> 
> Kudos and Comments let me know you like it and want more!

Steve and Bucky start fooling around long before either of them has presented. Even though it's the 1930s, adults prefer to pretend that it's still the 1830s when unpresented pups were as pure as the driven snow. Complete and utter malarkey. Once primary puberty hit so did the urges, even if they’re all basically sterile until secondary puberty and designations trigger. Hell, if anything, that makes it more tempting. A year or two during which getting someone in the ‘family way’ is nearly impossible and people who should know better still assume any relationship is a purely platonic friendship or puppy love at best. Steve’s not so sure his ma is that naïve, but the fact that he and Bucky are good kids who mostly stay out of trouble earns them more leeway than they probably deserve.

Bucky, who's always been stronger, healthier, and physically a little bit ahead, takes lead and Steve, in contrast to his scrappy, ornery school yard behavior, is happy to follow. Effortlessly charismatic, Bucky easily weaves in and out of nearly every social group at school where he hears stories Steve would never be able to get out of the kids who’ve already presented. He can even get ahold of the occasional Tijuana Bible, sometimes even a nearly brand new one. Of course, anything he sees, hears, or gets his hands on, he immediately shares with Steve.

They pour over the illicit contraband while lying in Steve’s bed, his back snug to Bucky’s chest, their legs twined together as they study the details in each frame. Sarah Rogers works double shifts at the hospital so Steve almost always has the place to himself, making his quiet, little apartment a much better option for viewing and storing any blue material they manage to get their mitts on. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary wouldn't be able to save them if any of Bucky’s little sisters were to ever find the bawdy comics at his place and bring them to Winifred Barnes’ attention. So, they wisely confine them to Steve’s cramped bedroom. And, man, do they savor those crude little comics. Graphic depictions of strong, hugely-endowed alphas mounting lithe, amazingly flexible omegas, close up drawings of sloppily wet holes stretched to their limits by huge, bulging knots. Steve squirms just looking at them. It’s lewd, smutty, and naughty. Bucky wickedly ups the ante by having Steve hold the booklet and turn the pages while he slides his hand down the front of Steve’s shorts, slowly jerking him off while Bucky gives the filthiest narrations he can think of, his voice husky with want and need. It takes a long time to get Steve fully hard and to the edge, his circulation sluggish and stingy, but Bucky is patient. He keeps going until Steve moans helplessly and spills all over himself with shivery little twitches and spasms. Then Bucky grips him in a tight hug, humping against him until he follows Steve over, all the while licking and sucking at Steve’s neck, nuzzling the scent glands that aren’t quite in even though they should’ve finished developing shortly after primary puberty. Not that Bucky cares.

* * *

They naturally assume Steve, being the far slighter of the two, will present omega and Bucky will be his alpha. It’s been their plan for years and, while they’re mum about it at school, everybody kinda knows. Their families have already accepted it, treating each other more or less like not-yet-official-in-laws.

Imagine their surprise when Bucky unexpectedly goes into _heat_. Steve will never forget showing up that morning to walk with Bucky to school like always. Mrs. Barnes opens the apartment door, soft sympathy pinching her face.

“Sorry, Stevie. Bucky got his first quarterly last night. He’ll be staying home today.”

Steve wants to feel excited, but Mrs. Barnes has the look of someone who knows they’re bearing bad news.

“ _Mazel Tov_ ,” he says hesitant but polite.

Her face shifts to a sweet, touched smile. She dips her head in acknowledgement. “ _Toe dah_ , Steven.”

“Ma’am, if it’s not too improper, may I ask his designation?” he asks, still holding out hope even as his stomach cramps in fear of the answer.

She looks at him pityingly. “He’s an omega, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

That’s… That’s not right. That’s not part of their plan.

“You can come back in a few days to visit,” she says, not unkindly. “He’ll be glad to see you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve replies dutifully, refusing to cry. Instead, he silently gathers the pieces of his broken heart and shattered dreams and continues on to school, alone.

Steve spends most of that week desperately furious with Bucky for wrecking their plan. He’s so angry, he can barely keep his breathing under control which makes it even worse because Bucky’s not here to help him with his breathing treatments so he’s burning through his meager supply of asthma cigarettes instead. He knows he needs to ration them carefully. His ma works her fingers to the bones to be able to afford them. But he can’t help himself. Bucky’s supposed to be his alpha. That’s what they’d agreed on. They can’t both be omegas.

“Stevie, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” Bucky says when he’s finally settled enough to leave home again. “There’s nothing I’da loved more than being your alpha.”

Steve sniffs and frowns dourly. It’s weird to smell that soft underlying scent of sweet omega on his friend. Cruelly, it teases Steve with what he wants but now can never have.

“Now we can’t be together,” Steve pouts, refusing to be soothed by Bucky’s reassurances.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinch down. “Says who?”

“Says… _everybody_!”

“Well, it’s going to take everybody plus the whole army to keep me away from you,” Bucky rebuts with a teasing poke to Steve’s bony ribs.

“What about school?” Steve says, still not convinced.

“What about it?”

“They’ll never let a same-designation couple stay together, especially not two omegas. They’ll kick us both out.”

Bucky thinks for a moment. “Well, for now, you don’t have a designation. They can’t kick either of us out until it’s official. You’re borrowing trouble.”

“Everybody knows how I'm going to present,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe. But they can’t do anything about it ‘til it actually happens.”

Steve falls silent, still prickly but unable to think of any further objections.

Bucky peers up at Steve from where he’s lying on the bed and slides a hand down to his belt buckle. “Hey, Stevie. Wanna find out what omega slick feels like?”

For the next half hour, Steve completely forgets that he was ever mad.

* * *

Steve will admit: Bucky had him convinced. Until they go back to school. Somehow, word has already spread: Bucky and Steve are queers. It doesn’t really seem to matter that technically it’s not even true. Steve remains in the unpresented class and Bucky’s transferred to the omega wing. He's outraged after his beloved science and shop classes are traded for ‘bull shit home economics and omega etiquette’ that he doesn’t give a damn about. And the fights, which were already pretty frequent, become constant.

“What can you expect when your son flaunts this type of… perversion?” the principal asks when Sarah requests a meeting after she comes home from work to find Steve bloody and bruised for the fifth day in the row. “Parents are already upset, demanding I expel them both.”

“They’ve done nothing wrong. Steven doesn’t even _have_ a designation,” she points out. “How can you look the other way when an unpresented  _pup_ is being picked on?”

“Steven being unpresented is the only reason I’ve been able to keep them here,” he replies then sighs heavily, ending with a shrug.

“Boys will be boys. Maybe you should move him somewhere more… tolerant of his choices,” the man says, trying to feign sympathy and missing the mark by miles. It’s even more irksome as Principal Miller had previously been fairly kind towards Steve because he felt bad about Steve’s dad dying in the Great War, leaving them on their own.

Sarah grabs Steve by the arm and escorts him out, but not before letting Principal Miller know how disappointed her late husband would be if he knew he died for a country where his only son gets picked on for his God-given designation. Principal Miller, red-faced, huffs indignantly, but ultimately has no retort.

* * *

“Maybe I should just drop out,” Bucky suggests a month later, lifting his head from where he’s lying on Steve’s bed icing sore knuckles. He’s looking a little bruised and worse for wear and that’s saying something considering Bucky’s a damned good fighter. But it’s hard when nearly all his friends have turned on him for being a fairy. “It’s not like I’m learning anything useful anyway.”

“I’m not gonna get in _fewer_ fights with you not around, Buck,” Steve points out, flexing the hand Bucky has already bandaged for him.

"Oh. Right," Bucky huffs and plops his head back down. “Never mind. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Steve assures him, brushing their fingers together. “ _I’ll_ drop out.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and gives him an indulgent smile. “Because your ticker can’t handle manual labor and you’d die of boredom if you were stuck being a house omega. What else does that leave you if you don’t have a diploma?”

Steve doesn’t know what to say.

“We’ll have to ride it out until you present and they kick one or both of us out.”

They’ve talked it to death and they’re prepared for a life of struggling as a double omega couple. People might mock them, but as long as they’re together, they’ll be happy. ‘Til the end of the line, Bucky had promised. They can handle a few more months, years or however long it takes Steve to finally present and make it official.

So, they put their heads down and push through. Through the fights and the teasing. Through the rude teachers who slip in backhanded insults and look the other way when Steve is tripped or pushed or punched. Through the neighbors whose nieces and nephews recently presented alpha and would be perfect for Bucky. Through Bucky’s _shney mitzvah_ where Steve watches silently as Bucky dutifully promises in front of his family and friends to be loyal and obedient to his future Alpha as is commanded.

The only true respite is their time alone with each other. Though they’re technically supposed to separate them and steer Bucky towards an alpha suitable for bonding, Bucky’s parents are pretending not to know how Steve and Bucky feel about each other. They’d probably be more vigilant if they knew what he and Steve get up to. Bucky can’t get dirty comics any more, now that he’s no longer one of the ‘cool kids.’ But he has something even better.

Heat toys.

The first time Bucky sneaks his heat kit over, they’re too shy to actually do anything with it. Steve thumbs at the spongy head of the silicone toy, runs his hand up and down the shaft, turns the knob that deploys the faux-knot, watching it appear, disappear, reappear, completely fascinated.

“You wanna try it?” Bucky asks the next time he brings the kit over.

“What?”

Bucky shrugs. “If we’re both going to be omegas, we’re gonna have to figure out how to do this for each other to get through our heats.”

Steve nods his head slowly. Yeah. That makes sense. He lays back on his bed as Bucky goes for the tin of Vaseline Steve keeps in his night table. Steve’s still thumbing nervously at the waistband of his shorts when Bucky turns back, tin in one hand, heat rod in the other, completely naked, having already shucked off his own shorts.

“Wha’sa matter, Gorgeous?” Bucky murmurs, soothingly. “Why so shy all of sudden? You do want this, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve manages to squeak. And he really does. It’s just… They've made out. They’ve fooled around. They’ve even rubbed each other off a few times. But this is the first time he’ll be fully naked in front of Bucky, letting Bucky see _everything_ , and he’s never had anything bigger than the tip of his own pointer finger inside his body.

“It’ll be good,” Bucky promises, pressing a kiss against Steve’s cheek before he tugs the shorts out of Steve’s grip, down and off, baring Steve to his gaze.

“Beautiful,” Bucky murmurs.

“Bull shit,” Steve challenges, giving Bucky the stink eye. He’s scrawny and pale, his bones protrude unappealingly under his skin, gangly in every way possible. Despite his nervous excitement, his cock is barely turgid, the chronically poor circulation that keeps his fingers and toes constantly cold struggling to provide blood flow to yet another appendage.

“No bull shit,” Bucky shoots back, pressing a kiss against Steve’s lips before sliding down his body to lip at one bony hip then shifting to lick along the entirety of Steve’s mostly soft shaft. Steve moans. Even if he’s not as hard as he’d like, that still feels really good. Bucky licks and sucks until Steve’s cock can reasonably be called a chubby. Then he uses his hands to push Steve’s knees up and out, spreading him, exposing all his secret parts for Bucky to see and enjoy. Steve moans and squirms with how perfectly dirty it feels.

“Now we’re getting to the good part,” Bucky teases.

At the first warm press of Bucky’s tongue across his hole, Steve mewls and his hands fly down to Bucky’s hair, holding him in place. He digs his feet into the mattress and tilts his hips, wanting more of this new, mind-melting sensation. Bucky licks at him until Steve feels melty and pliant like the softest penny taffy. But his stomach quivers, knowing this isn’t the end. Bucky hasn’t even touched him with the heat rod yet.

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve moans, twisting under Bucky’s clever mouth and tongue. “More, please.”

Bucky lifts up from where he’s been laying between Steve’s thighs. He grins, his lips bruised, his chin wet with his own spit, his eyes bright. He sits up and hums, gives his own hard cock a few strokes before switching to Steve, encouraging his cock to fully harden. Steve keens, knowing that Bucky’s transferring the pre-spend from his own cock to Steve’s. A silly, but insanely hot thought.

“You want more, Stevie?” Bucky teases with long, deliberate strokes to Steve’s now twitching cock.

“Yes, sir,” Steve says without thinking and then cringes when the unfailing manners his ma drilled into him registers in his ears.

Bucky’s face splits into a wide grin. “Sir, huh? I might like that.”

Steve doesn’t have time to tell him to get bent before Bucky has coated one finger in Vaseline and is rubbing it against Steve’s spit-slicked hole. Steve groans and closes his eyes, concentrating. The touch sends an odd but inexplicably nice sensation rippling all over his body, sending goosebumps skittering everywhere, warm pleasure throbbing through his balls and up his shaft.

“Deep breath,” Bucky murmurs and then Steve feels it. Bucky pushes a single finger into his body.

He pants, working to relax around the intrusion, his legs twitching uncertainly. It feels foreign, weird. And when the finger is in all the way to the webbing, he feels oddly full. It’s not bad, but not nearly as pleasurable as he’d expected. He’s about to tell Bucky so when Bucky starts to pull the finger out. Steve cries out hoarsely and his hand flies down to his cock, compelled to stroke himself to complement the other-worldly sensation Bucky just gave him.

“Good?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow lifted knowingly.

“Nngh,” Steve replies still tugging lightly at his cock.

Bucky works in a second finger. It stings, but he stretches and rubs until the burn goes away and he hits a spot that makes Steve feel like he might pee himself, but simultaneously feels so good Steve willing to risk it so long as Bucky keeps doing what he’s doing it.

By the time Bucky pulls out his fingers and picks up the heat rod, Steve’s a sweaty, writhing, moaning mess. His only touchstone is Bucky’s warm left hand on his hip and his own hand squeezing tightly around the base of his cock. Slicking the heating rod, Bucky’s gaze slides over Steve’s body, a warm, nearly tangible weight. He studies Steve like he’s trying to figure out something.

“Put your hands on the head board. Both of them,” Bucky orders, the firmness in his voice sending a thrill through Steve’s body. Steve whines softly, already missing the grip of his hand, but does as he’s told. He starts to feel a little overwhelmed as Bucky lines the heat rod up, pressing the blunt tip to the opening of Steve’s body. His eyes flutter closed until he feels a firm pressure against his chin. He blinks his eyes open to see Bucky staring at him commandingly.

“Watch,” he orders.

“Yes, sir,” Steve whispers.

He nearly drowns in an ocean of sensation, barely able to breathe as he watches the toy disappear, centimeter by centimeter, into his body and he simultaneously feels the pressure of it forging its way, big and thick, forcing his inner walls to submit and give way, rubbing, pressing, firm and steady in places he’s never been touched before. His nipples tingle and ache, tight, hard points on his chest and his cock jerks and leaks onto his belly. He whimpers and moans with reckless abandon, not giving a damn if the neighbors can hear him.

“Good, yeah?” Bucky asks as he works the toy in and out of Steve.

Steve can’t find the breath or words to answer and just nods dumbly, spreading his legs wider, silently begging for more.

Bucky works the toy, thrusting and retreating, until Steve’s body is whip tight with tension and he’s arching with every thrust.

“Please… please, Bucky,” Steve begs senselessly.

“You want it?” Bucky asks like he can’t tell.

“Yeah. Yes. Please. Want it.”

Bucky hums. “What do you want?”

Steve can’t even put together a thought for several thrusts. It’s not until Bucky slows down that he remembers he’s supposed to be giving an answer.

“Want you to touch… touch my… my cock, please. Sir.”

Bucky shivers, loving that title, the vulnerability it represents.

“Touch you how?” he demands.

Steve’s eyes roll back a little and it’s harder to breathe. “How… however, you want.”

When he says it, he isn’t expecting Bucky to slip his mouth onto Steve’s cock and suck for all he’s worth. His body locks up in shock, quivering on the edge, looking for that extra push. Bucky gives it by spinning the knob that deploys the knot on the heat rod. Steve howls, plunging into orgasm, coughing and breathless even as he shivers through the best thing he’s ever felt, his body rippling, stretched wide and tight around the toy, his cock spilling in the wet heat of Bucky’s mouth. The orgasm is one hundred percent worth the heart palpitations and the asthma attack it nearly gives him. When the waves of pleasure finally stop rolling, he’s exhausted, completely boneless, and blissed out, weak heart thumping wildly, lungs laboring, as Bucky slides up his body to lick at his mouth and hump against his thigh until Steve feels him shudder and slick heat spill between their skin.

“Buck,” Steve mumbles. “I… I think I love you.”

Bucky laughs.

“Pretty sure that’s your prick talking, pal,” he says as he rubs their combined spend into Steve’s skin even though he shouldn’t. It’s bolder than putting a big sign on Steve that says ‘Mine!’ But Steve doesn’t fight it. It’s not like he’s going to leave the apartment any time soon.

After that, it doesn’t take much for Bucky to convince Steve to go further and further until finally, Bucky mounts him for the first time. And human flesh, Bucky’s warm breath and sweaty skin, his hot, thick cock inside Steve’s body, feels even better.

Steve doesn’t care what anybody says. Something that feels this right can’t be wrong.

* * *

They make it through the end of the school year and into the summer, allowing them a reprieve from the busybodies and their unsolicited opinions, suggestions, and advice. Prone to heat exhaustion, Steve has to stay inside much of the day. Bucky stays with him in pure solidarity. They spend their time planning their future move to the west village where people don’t get worked up about same designation couples.

“You might still save us the hassle and present beta,” Bucky says. “At least then you could use your mojo to back bullies down easier.”

It’s a nice idea and Steve latches on to it, hoping against hope. They hangout every day talking, playing cards, fooling around. They watch fireworks on his birthday and share a cupcake from Winifred. Eventually and inevitably, he comes down with what feels like a summer flu in the dog days of August, just before school starts. Sarah bans Bucky from the house for the duration, reminding him that he can't risk taking anything home to his little sisters. Bucky reluctantly agrees, but promises he'll be back as soon as Sarah gives the all clear. It’s just as well. Bucky’s quarterly is due to hit any day now. After Bucky leaves, Sarah whips up a batch of soup in preparation of feeding a fever and they prepare for the worst. Steve's immune system struggles to repel even minor infections from scrapes and paper cuts.

Imagine their surprise when little Stevie’s ‘flu’ turns out to be his first rut.

* * *

Steve’s rut takes a week and a half, twice as long as normal.

First, and most embarrassingly, his ma has to scramble to get him rut toys. She had heat toys she’d special ordered through a discrete catalog mail order service well over a year ago after carefully saving the money for months, but nothing about Steve has ever been simple. Not when he surprised his parents at conception a month after they married. Not when he arrived a month and a half early, forcing them to constantly deal with rude insinuations about their baby being born not even a full eight months after their wedding. And not now when he presented alpha when everybody just _knew_ Steve was destined to be an omega. But bless, Sarah Roger’s sainted heart, she did what she had to and presented him with a plain paper bag, rut toy, a fresh tin of Vaseline, and a magazine tucked discretely inside. Steve nearly spontaneously combusts thinking of the part of town she must’ve had to go to and who she'd had to talk to in order to get these for him.

The second complication is Steve’s body, as usual. Much like the name suggests, he needs to rut until he orgasms and his knot pops, probably more than once. The problem is his poor circulation and the resulting short stamina. With enough time and cajoling, he can get hard, but it’s difficult to maintain the erection long enough to orgasm and knot before his body gets overly tired and needs rest. Realistically, he needs help. Most of his sexual experiences up to this point have centered around him lying prone more or less while Bucky coaxes his body into reacting. But he’d rather die than tell his ma and it’s beyond what any of their parents are willing to overlook to ask to have Bucky here for this. Frustrated and hornier than he’s ever been, Steve experiments until he eventually finds a method that works. He wedges the rut sleeve between a pillow and some layered blankets, topped with a sweatshirt left behind at some point that smells like Bucky. Laying down on the pile carefully, Steve figures out a way he can hump into the sleeve as fast or slow as he likes and rest as he needs to without losing the stimulation that’s maintaining his erection. When he finally manages to pop his knot for the first time Steve feels like he’s stumbled upon the keys to a sexual Shangri-La. Sex with Bucky is great but this… this is… euphoric… it defies description. And he wants more of it.

It takes another three days after his rut ends for Steve to recover from the overexertion. But as soon as he's feeling better, he heads straight over to Bucky’s.

Mrs. Barnes opens the door with her usual warm, welcoming smile. She takes a polite sniff.

“ _Mazel Tov,_ Steven,” she says with a barely contained, amused twitch of her lips.

Steve’s face blazes and it spreads down to his neck, knowing what she’s smelling.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says quickly and all but barrels to Bucky’s room.

Bucky doesn’t even try to hide his glee.

“Holy cow, Stevie! What are the chances?!”

Steve shrugs bashfully.

“Now, we’re a regular couple, just like everybody else. I can’t wait to see those jerks at school eat crow.”

* * *

They don’t exactly eat crow, but school’s a bit easier. A lot of the kids had been fringe bullies, bleating sheep just following the crowd, and they don’t see any real reason to keep giving Steve and Bucky a hard time now that they're a plain ol’ regular alpha-omega couple. Steve’s moved to the alpha wing much to everyone’s continued surprise. Principal Miller personally congratulates him, telling him how proud Steve’s dad would be to have such a fine alpha son. Steve kinda wants to pop him one for daring to mention his dad after all the shit he turned a blind eye to and the way he’d talked to Steve’s ma last year. But Sarah Rogers raised him right, so Steve merely mumbles ‘Thank you, sir’ politely.

The problem with the alpha wing is that Steve’s the smallest one there and one of the only alphas everybody knows already has a promised omega. Despite how they’d been treated the latter half of the last school year, there are plenty of bigger alphas who find Bucky plenty good lookin’ and don’t see any reason why a scrawny runt like Steve should have such a prime omega. So again, Steve’s constantly getting into fights with bullies who think it’s hilarious to pick on the runt of the litter. Of course, now, the teachers step in more readily because there’s nothing immoral about being small or a late bloomer. Bucky hauls Steve out of more than one fight, as well. But that only makes it worse, with those jerks jeering about Steve having to hide behind his omega and trying to find ways around Bucky’s protection. The first time one of those dip wads tries to use his alpha voice, Bucky gets suspended for a week for breaking the guy’s nose and knocking out one of his teeth. Three alphas against Steve and Bucky, but Bucky’s the only one punished, which is completely unfair. Using alpha voice on a betrothed omega is bad form. But apparently not as bad as an omega openly challenging alphas.

Bucky’s parents try to keep a closer eye on them but with a family of seven in a three-bedroom apartment, it’s still easier to let Bucky hang out at Steve’s until dinner. Bucky's not allowed to stay the night anymore, though. Steve and Bucky have gotten the talk from Sarah, Winifred, _and_ George Barnes about waiting until bonded marriage before sex and how hard life would be for a whelp born out of wedlock, particularly before the two of them are even able to support themselves or each other, let alone a child. Bucky’s red-faced for the first time Steve can remember in years when he tells Steve that Winifred had taken him to get a combined injectable contraceptive, the shot for male omegas. Apparently, they trust Steve and Bucky about as far as they can throw them.

Which really just means their parents are amazing judges of character. That horse is not only out of the barn, it’s happily grazing grass a few counties over. Steve and Bucky can hardly keep their hands off of each other. They experiment with the newest changes to their bodies and the toys they’ve been given. To their disappointment, Bucky doesn’t get all that much out of Steve’s rut toy, maybe because it's designed primarily for knot stimulation. The one time they tried it, he says it doesn't feel nearly as good as a hand job or actually being inside Steve. In contrast, Steve still really likes Bucky using the heat rod on him. As an alpha, he’s not supposed to like being penetrated, but whoever made that rule has never cum as hard as Steve cums when Bucky uses that thing on him. It’s all part of Bucky’s obsession with finding new ways to make Steve pop his knot while not allowing Steve to so much as lift a finger. Sarah lifts a suspicious eyebrow but doesn’t say a word when Steve bashfully tells her he needs a new rut toy before his next quarterly when the old one’s not even a year old. The money comes out of his winter coat savings jar and this time _he_ has to go get it, particularly embarrassing because they make Steve wait while they call her at work to verify he has permission to buy the toy because they didn’t believe Steve is sixteen, the youngest they’re allowed to sell by law, even with a parent letter.

The embarrassment is oh so worth it, though. Steve likes this bossy side of Bucky. He spends so much time fighting for his right to be an alpha that it’s… soothing to have his omega so focused on giving him pleasure. It makes him feel cared for and loved. And Bucky seems to genuinely enjoy doing it. After months of experimenting, Bucky’s new favorite is combining their toys while making Steve stay spread out and perfectly still. It’s a fine balance between keeping his heart pumping hard enough to keep him erect but not so hard he gets palpitations and agitates his murmur. Too worked up and he might trigger his asthma. Bucky works Steve’s rut sleeve over his cock in tight, slow squeezes with one hand while pumping the heat rod into Steve, firm and deep, with the other. Every time Steve thrusts up or grind downs, Bucky stops completely and they wait until Steve can find the breath to apologize for breaking the rules. Eventually, all Steve can do is whimper and moan as the pleasure centers of his body and brain are overloaded. They've been at it half an hour when the waves overtake Steve and he finally tenses, trying desperately to stay still and quiet and just let the wickedly sharp orgasm roll over him, his knot plumping out excruciatingly slow, his channel clenching and rippling around the heat toy. He sighs and slumps in exhausted relief when it’s over, his muscles completely relaxed, his brain floating on air. Bucky, the cat who got the canary, nuzzles at Steve’s scent glands that are finally all the way in. Most kids get them with they’re around twelve or thirteen. Forever behind, Steve’s are still developing and don’t give off much of a scent yet. Bucky’s scent glands are fine and he has to be reminded not to go overboard. Steve’s ma likes Bucky, but that doesn’t mean she wants to come home to Steve literally smelling like he’s just had a roll in the hay with him.

Steve can’t imagine being any happier than this.

* * *

Naturally, the rest of the year is terrible, the worst Steve can remember. Sarah starts feeling unusually worn down not long after Thanksgiving and by Christmas, she’s quarantined in the TB Ward. Steve’s constitution is considered far too weak to be allowed to visit her and without her nurse’s salary, he can’t hold on to their apartment past the New Year. The Barnes’ gladly open their doors and allow Steve to move in with them, albeit with a sterner than usual warning that they have four impressionable pups who look up to their omega brother as a role model. With eight people sharing three rooms, there’s only room for one nesting couple. Steve and Bucky both agree to go on suppressants for the time being, which is secretly a relief since Steve’s not at all in the mood to get up to anything or deal with his ruts. Not that Bucky has time to notice. In order to help support the unexpected extra mouth that also has a boatload of non-negotiable medications, Bucky officially drops out of school and goes to work down at the docks. Even though they’re by no means the most traditional couple, Steve feels weird about having his omega working to support him, but any time he tries to bring it up, Bucky just winks and tells him when Steve finally gets his diploma, he can go out and get a high-paying job while Bucky sits around the house eating boxed chocolates, listening to radio programs, and getting fat. Steve lets it go, for now.

Steve gets in fewer fights at school, but only because he’s so lost in his own head, he hardly ever hears the insults anymore. He misses his ma something terrible. He’s determined to finish school and graduate. That’ll make her feel better. It’s the one thing his ma has always wanted for him. She’s never listened to any of the doctors who’ve said time and time again Steve’s heart won’t hold out past twenty-five. She instead focused on how important it is to her that he be able to take care of himself even if she’s not around to help. Months pass and Steve throws himself into his school work. When he finally goes to show her his diploma through the window of her quarantine room in May, she looks gaunt, paler than he’s ever seen her. His stomach sinks. He knows she won’t be with him much longer.

She’s too ill for visitors on Steve’s eighteenth birthday.

By October, she’s gone.

He doesn’t even get to hug her goodbye. She’s cremated to prevent contamination and her ashes are buried next to Steve’s father.

* * *

Without his mother or school to focus on, Steve falls into a deep funk, one he struggles to climb out of. For the first month, he’s completely convinced it’s his fault his mom came down with consumption. She hadn’t had a winter coat last year because he’d needed to replace that stupid rut toy and she would never let him go without. He beat himself up about it until Bucky finally dragged him to the public library and showed him in the World Book where the encyclopedia said you didn’t catch tuberculosis from exposure to cold weather, but rather from contact with someone who already had it.

“She picked it up at work, Stevie. Had to. She worked on the ward.”

“Only because it paid better and she needed money for my stupid asthma cigarettes and my heart pills,” Steve muttered.

“Stevie, she loved you. She would’ve worked anywhere to take care of you, _aleha_ _ha-shalom._ ”

_May she rest in peace._

Steve half-heartedly crosses himself. “She shouldn’t have had to.”

“No,” Bucky agrees, “But you don’t deserve a bum ticker or weak lungs either. You do the best you can with what you have.”

Steve sighs and concedes the point. It doesn’t really improve his mood though.

There’s no work to be found anywhere. The whole country is struggling. The Barnes household is no exception. Eight people on two and a half salaries in a three-bedroom apartment is no picnic. There’s little room to breathe and for Steve, who’d grown up spending most of his time alone, so many people all the time is overwhelming. But he doesn’t complain. He’s lucky the Barnes’ were willing to take him in or he’d be on the street somewhere. They try to cheer Steve up, but he can tell they’re struggling too. Winifred has been getting worrying letters from relatives back in Europe. Something bad’s brewing. Her family wants to come to America, where it’s safer, but they require immigration sponsors. Few people have the financial means to sponsor anyone and even fewer have the desire to sponsor Jewish refugees. There’s nothing the Barneses can do for them right now.

To relieve some of the strain, Steve and Bucky move out on their own, into a tiny tenement. It’s a crumbling, one-room efficiency with no heat that shares a communal bathroom with the entire floor, but it’s theirs. Being able to come off the suppressants and snuggle freely with Bucky at night improves Steve’s mood marginally and for the first time all year, he finds himself excited for the future.

Until their first shared heat/rut cycle.

Steve with his piss poor circulation can’t stay hard long enough and can’t knot Bucky as often as either of them needs. His heart strains under the demands of his own body and simply can't keep up with Bucky’s increased libido. In the end, Bucky has to use his toys to get himself through his heat _and_ help Steve through his rut. It makes Steve feel like a complete failure as an alpha. After his rut finally passes, he lays down to rest. And stays there.

Bucky checks on him first thing in the morning and as soon as he gets back from work, talking to Steve, telling him about his plans for the day or interesting things that happened even though Steve never answers.

Until one day he wakes to Bucky, snuggled to his back.

“Stevie, I know you’re sad and I understand, I do,” Bucky says, his voice shaking. “But baby, the only thing that’s been holding you together all these years is your ma’s prayers and your fighting spirit. If you give up… Stevie… I don’t know how I’d survive if I lost you.”

As crappy as Steve feels, his inner alpha rears its head at the sound and scent of his omega in distress. He turns slowly and wraps Bucky in a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” he promises.

And he does. The next day, he gets up, he showers, he dresses, he cleans, he looks for work. He decides to pretend like he feels better. And he does it again the next day and the next. Then, one day, without him realizing it, he’s not pretending anymore. Life doesn’t magically get better, but he’s trained himself to look for the positives, to find things that makes him happy, that are worth fighting for in any situation.

Eventually, they settle into a rhythm. Bucky’s the main breadwinner, working double shifts down at the docks. Steve helps out wherever he can, mostly through sign painting, but he’s also managed to get some ad work here and there and a few of his cartoons get printed in the local newspaper and magazines. His reputation as an artist has also earned him a few generous commissions doing portraits for neighbors who want a new piece to spruce up their home or to give as special occasion gifts but can’t afford a ‘real’ artist. Steve earns just enough to feel like he’s contributing even though his part of their income is painfully fickle, ebbing and flowing.

As his mood lifts, his libido does as well. Bucky’s too tired after work during the week, but the weekends… Well, Steve lives for the weekends. Out from under the watchful eyes and peeping ears of Bucky’s parents and overly curious little sisters, Steve and Bucky can really let loose. They try anything they hear about and their only limit are their imagination and Steve's heart. On one occasion, Bucky puts Steve on his back and treats him like a living heat toy, riding Steve’s cock, pinching his own nipples, and jerking himself off. He makes Steve wait until Bucky's spend bubbles up and out, spilling over them both before Steve's allowed to cum. On another, he bends Steve over the card table they use for breakfast, grips him by the hips, and fucks him until Steve, moaning incoherently, loses it, making a mess all over the vinyl table top. Once, he even spreads Steve out on the bed and works Steve open, slowly, adding one finger at a time until his whole hand is inside Steve’s slim, writhing body. That day, Steve cums so hard he needs a heart pill and two asthma cigarettes afterwards and he still gets half-hard any time he thinks about it.

Today, they’re experimenting with ropes. Bucky’s never been shy about loving the way Steve looks when he’s forced to be still, helpless against the pleasure he’s experiencing. Steve likes how intense Bucky gets and that buzzing, floating feeling he gets in his head and his whole body after they’ve played hard. But they have to be careful. Steve bruises easier than summer fruit and it wouldn’t take much to get the neighbors’ tongues wagging if Steve shows up at the corner market or the laundromat looking like he’s been beat up by his omega. Steve doesn’t care if they gossip about him, but Bucky doesn’t need the hassle. He already has to jump through hoops to convince his boss that, yes, he has his alpha’s permission to work and, no, he doesn’t have pups he should be home taking care of. If people started whispering that he was possibly being violent against his alpha, he’d lose his job _and_ be overrun by knotheads anxious to show him how a ‘real’ alpha keeps their omega in their proper place.

But that’s the furthest thing from Steve’s mind right now. Right now, his head is swimming with how good Bucky is making him feel.

Steve’s naked in the middle of their one-room apartment. He’s folded over the used ottoman Bucky found cheap at a consignment shop. It’s just the perfect height, width, and length to support Steve’s torso and let him comfortably rest in this position indefinitely. His wrists are padded with strips of cloth and tied with twine to the front two feet of the ottoman, keeping him bent over. His legs are spread wide, baring him to Bucky’s gaze, his knees secured one each to the ottoman’s back two feet. He’s moaning loudly and wantonly as Bucky fingers him, rubbing and stretching until his entrance is loose and receptive.

“We’re gonna have so much fun today, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve nods in agreement and groans, pushing back into the thrust of Bucky’s fingers. He whines disappointedly when Bucky pulls out, but mere seconds later he feels the heat toy pushing inside him, making him moan pitifully.

Bucky chuckles wickedly. “Yeah, I know what you like.”

He works the toy, in and out, thrusting, purposefully hitting that spot Steve loves until Steve can feel pre-cum drooling out of the tip of his cock. Then Bucky stops. Panting, Steve moans plaintively. He’s just about to open his mouth to beg Bucky to keep going when…

_Smack…_

Bucky’s hand strikes his left ass cheek with a hard, stinging slap.

It knocks the air out of Steve and, for a moment, he can’t think, his brain stuttering to a complete stop.

_Smack…_

Another strike, on his right ass cheek. Steve writhes and twitches, trying to process. Does… does this feel good?

_Smack…_

Another slap to his already tender left ass cheek and this time it burns. His cock answers for him.

_Yes. This feels… better than good. This feels... amazing!_

“Fuck…” Steve moans, trying to push his hips back for more, clenching hard around the toy inside him with every jarring hit, each strike reverberating through his body. By the time Bucky’s a dozen strikes in, Steve's trembling, shivering with how good it all feels.

“Bucky… Sir… gonna…”

“Nobody's stoppin' ya,” Bucky says in that husky voice of his. Then he viciously turns the knob on the heat toy, deploying the knot, stretching Steve to his limits around the bulge, and rains stingingly hard slaps down on Steve’s ass. Steve howls and writhes as much as his restraints will let him, rutting through the most intense orgasm he’s ever felt, wondering in the far part of his mind how Bucky always manages to top what they've done before before the thought slips and slides away. Just as he’s coming down, Bucky pulls out the toy and slides in, thick and warm, smothering him with kisses as he fucks him with sharp, powerful thrusts, until Bucky cums, too.

Afterwards, Steve is practically putty. No. Putty can be useful. He's the residue putty leaves behind. His ass throbs pleasantly, inside and out and he knows he’ll feel it for days, every time he sits, with every step he takes. He gets a thrill knowing that he’ll get to wear Bucky’s marks but no one will be able to see them and judge him for them. Spanking quickly becomes Steve's favorite, but Bucky makes it a special treat he has to earn by being really good, by taking care of himself, remembering his vitamins and meds every day, getting out of the apartment for fresh air, doing things to keep his spirits up. Steve works really hard to be able to feel that bruising burn as often as possible.

Time passes and Steve and Bucky keep working, playing, exploring. Eventually, during one of their sessions, Bucky's fucking Steve on the bed, face to face, one of Steve's legs pulled up and slung over Bucky's forearm, the other pressed to the bed. The position and resulting stretch keeps Steve's body open to Bucky's touch but tight to his thrusts. It feels so amazing Steve gets carried away with his normal mouthing at Bucky's skin and actually bites Bucky, directly on his scent gland. They both freeze, Bucky’s hips stuttering to a stop and he's shivering uncontrollably. Steve lets go.

"Did… Did I go too far?” Steve asks nervously, licking his lips, afraid of the answer even as the taste of Bucky's skin lingers in his mouth.

“Never, Stevie,” Bucky assures him. Hitching Steve's legs higher, he resumes fucking, pounding harder until Steve is nearly crying from how good it is. But this time as Steve’s body is twitching and spasming, rippling around the thick, fullness of Bucky’s cock splitting him wide open, Bucky bites Steve, hard, on his scent glands. Pleasure explodes through Steve so hot and fast, Steve’s knot unexpectedly pops and he nearly blacks out.

And it’s official. They’re bonded mates.

“’Til death do us part?” Steve jokes softly afterwards, when his pulse finally evens out.

“’Til the end of the line,” Bucky confirms.

Winifred is disappointed they didn’t do it ‘properly’ with a rabbi in front of the synagogue but bond marking each other in front of a bunch of strangers, even if it’s just a single bite and not the whole shebang, seems weird to Steve and he’s secretly glad they had that moment to themselves. They might be technically living in sin now, but they’re bond mates and nobody can ever tear them apart. Maybe they’ll do the synagogue or catholic mass thing when the job market gets better. It’s not like they can afford a house or to start a family right now anyway, so what’s a piece of paper to them?

* * *

The importance of paper becomes much clearer over the next year.

One terrible morning, Steve’s listening to the radio when a newscaster breaks in and announces that Pearl Harbor has been attacked. Hundreds dead, even more wounded or missing.

“Are we headed to war?” Steve asks when Bucky finally gets home, tired from a long day.

“I don’t know where the country is headed, but I plan to stay here with you.”

And that’s his answer every time Steve asks when yet another neighbor announces that their son or husband got his papers and is being shipped off. Bucky doesn't change his answer until Steve finds the papers his omega’s been hiding.

Bucky’s officially been drafted.

“So what? Were you just not going to tell me? Just up and disappear one day without a word?” Steve asks, furious and hurt.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…,” Bucky sighs. “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t want you to get upset.”

“That’s not your call to make. I’m your _alpha,_ ” Steve snarls with a growl. “You tell me _everything._ ”

Bucky’s brow furrows and his face darkens with anger. “Did you just try to use your _alpha voice on me?_ ”

And Christ on a cracker, the fight that kicks off. They’ve never been this angry at each other in nearly twenty years of friendship.

Steve stubbornly tries to figure out a way to get shipped out with Bucky, but all it leads to is a stack of falsified applications with the dreaded ‘4F’ stamped on them. The army needs healthy, able-bodied men, not sickly runts who get winded climbing the stairs to their third-floor apartment.

Steve finally breaks their silent stand-off when the calendar dwindles down to only a week until Bucky ships out for basic training.

“I’m sorry, Buck,” he says nuzzling into his omega’s back that night as they lay in bed. “I’m just… I’m scared. I’m supposed to be your alpha, but I can’t protect you when you're on the other side of the world from me.”

Bucky turns over and shuffles until he can pull Steve into his arms, until the tips of their noses are touching. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my draft card. But I know how fired up you get about bullies and these Nazi scum are the biggest bullies out there. I knew you'd be upset you can’t go fight.”

Steve sighs, silently admitting that Bucky’s right. He nuzzles into the scent glands on Bucky’s neck, marking his omega with his scent, as though he can leave enough to carry him through.

"If I could figure out a way to go with you, I would. In a heartbeat," Steve says.

"I know," Bucky says with a small smile. "You'd probably beat me there."

Steve nods. He doesn't know what else to say so they hold each other tight, knowing it's one of the last times for a long time.

* * *

When it's time for Bucky to board his train for bootcamp, Steve refuses to cry, even though they're mainly tears of frustration. He wants to be strong and calm for his omega even if Bucky would tell him he doesn't have to be.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe,” he asks, hugging Bucky tight one last time.

“Of course,” Bucky assures him. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Steve chuckles and lets go. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

 

* * *

A year later, Steve meets Dr. Abraham Erskine at Stark Expo and he does something stupid.

* * *

When Steve was falsifying applications trying to enlist, he always assumed he’d be busting Nazi skulls or helping liberate occupied cities. Not prancing around like a fancy show girl, delivering pre-written speeches to convince lonely, wealthy betas and omegas on the home front to buy war bonds to help ensure their mates’ safe return from the front line.

“Well, you _have_ punched out Hitler in every state in the contiguous US,” the USO girls tease him when he grumbles.

Begrudgingly, Steve keeps up the dog and pony show. He _is_ helping, even if it’s not how he imagined.

Then, shortly after their tour finally takes them to Europe to entertain the troops, he finds out Bucky’s unit has been captured and there are no plans to rescue them until the war ends.

Steve immediately goes to see Colonel Phillips, demanding he be given the men and equipment to go rescue the 107th. When that request is summarily denied, Steve threatens to go on his own. Phillips counters with a threat to throw Steve in the brig if he can’t follow simple orders.

“You’re a one of a kind symbol of American Exceptionalism, son,” Phillips insists. “What'll the folks back home think if they find out I let you go wandering directly into harm's way?”

“I’ve told you why I have to go. Find me one person back home that believes Captain America would let Nazis hold his omega as a prisoner of war.”

Colonel Phillip is unmoved by his argument and refuses to greenlight a rescue mission. He warns Steve he’ll regret if Phillips finds out Steve circumvented his orders.

So, the first thing Steve does after he returns with the entirety of the 107th in tow is march directly up to Colonel Phillips who'd apparently been in the middle of chewing out Peggy Carter for helping Steve go AWOL.

Steve salutes sharply and stands at attention. “Some of these men need medical attention. I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

Phillips looks at the tired, wounded men who’ve returned, at the men in the camp, so down in spirit moments ago, who are exuberant and rejuvenated by the return of their battle buddies they'd never expected to see again.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says gruffly and walks off muttering about stubborn women and hard-headed USO mascots.

“Hey!” Bucky shouts. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

The whole camp roars with approval.

That night, tucked away in Steve’s tent, Steve can barely calm himself down enough to comfort scent properly. They triple check that the tent flaps are sealed tight and proper and Steve even marks the outside perimeter, making his scent as aggressive as possible so that anyone who approaches knows they don’t want to be disturbed. Few people know that Steve and Bucky are a bonded pair, but most are aware that Steve's an alpha and Bucky's an omega. The camp may have cheered for him hours earlier, but if anyone saw the way Captain America was straddling his omega’s lap…

Steve doesn’t care.

“I was so scared for you, Buck,” Steve whispers, biting at Bucky’s lips, all the while rubbing the scent glands at his wrists against Bucky’s neck and across his back, reassuring himself that his omega is real and whole.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Buck murmurs, tilting his head back, exposing his throat in supplication to Steve, letting him bite and kiss and rub to his heart’s content.

Eventually, they have to shift out of the chair and onto the ground after Bucky’s legs fall asleep and can’t keep Steve upright any longer. It's one of the few downsides to his new body. Steve’s not as light as he used to be.

“Jeez, look at you, Stevie,” Bucky says looking him over as he peels Steve’s uniform off piece by piece, marveling at the smooth, bulging muscle that now rests where there used to be nothing more than skin and bone.

“You don’t like it?” Steve asks, suddenly hesitant and self-conscious. He feels so much healthier in his new body, able to run and jump and do anything else he pleases. But it often feels alien, awkward and unwieldy. Steve can no longer fold into little corners unnoticed. Now, when he walks into a room, he catches every eye. Steve Rogers grew up all but invisible. Everyone notices Captain America.

Bucky kisses him, a breath-taking clash of teeth and tongues.

“I liked you when you were my itty-bitty firecracker, I like you now, and I’ll like whatever comes next,” Bucky insists. Then he proves it, rolling them so he can slide between Steve's spread legs and work his alpha open with his fingers. Steve shivers when Bucky slides inside him, grasping at his hips, amazed by how much harder Bucky can thrust without fear of hurting him. And Bucky does just that, deep and hard until they’re both spent and wrung out.

From then on, they’re practically inseparable. Steve and Bucky. Bucky and Steve. Cap and Sarge. Bucky technically qualified for an honorable discharge because of his injuries during his time in Azzano, but he stays, refusing to leave his best fella behind. Steve’s glad to have him. _This_ is how he imagined it would be. With Steve at the lead, Bucky and a few others, collectively known as the Howling Commandos, begin to piece by piece disassemble the Nazi dominance in Europe.

It’s the beginning of a spectacular adventure. Together.

* * *

Bucky falls. Something inside Steve breaks. He can’t live without his omega. He doesn't want to.

Putting the plane in the ice to save New York is the easiest choice he’s ever made.

* * *

Steve wakes up in the future.

Alone.

* * *

He puts his head down, pushes through, just like he always has. His heart hurts, although not physically now. He reminds himself that Bucky wouldn’t want him to quit.

But it’s so hard to keep going without him.

* * *

Steve’s fighting an assassin on the highway. The guy’s dressed completely in black except for his left arm, shiny, silver, and bare. The assassin, moving like a machine, nearly kills Steve, Natasha, and Sam from the outset, decimating their car, launching Steve over the side of a bridge with a grenade launcher, gunning at Sam and Nat with a barrage of automated weapons. It’s all Steve can do to match him in hand to hand combat, all the while his brain is screaming, telling Steve there’s something wrong. But it’s not until the mask falls off that Steve realizes what it is.

“Bucky?”


End file.
